


The Fourth Horsemen

by Feygan



Series: Stories Up For Adoption [2]
Category: Highlander, X-Men: The Animated Series
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, Crossover, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feygan/pseuds/Feygan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this was a "What if a still blue Warren Worthington is angsting around after that whole Fourth Horseman of the Apocalyse thing met Methos" story. There's a whole story outline, but I never got around to writing it. What's here is a bit schmoopy and it started out as a songfic for some reason.</p><p>If anyone would like to adopt this story, please check out what's here and let me know. I'm willing to give up my notes and offer any plot advice, or you can go your own road with it. Let me know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fourth Horsemen

It's so easy to lose everything that has any meaning in a life. A couple of innocuous mistakes, and suddenly you're on the outside looking in on everything that used to be important. He didn't even really have any friends anymore; there were only people that used to know the person he thought he was, back before it all fell apart.

Sighing regretfully for all that he'd lost, Warren put on a CD, needing something to take away from the terrible silence. He was tired of being alone in his own skin, listening to his own voice in the bleak empty of his head.

.

"How can you see into my eyes like open doors  
leading you down into my core  
where I've become so numb?  
Without a soul  
my spirit sleeping somewhere cold  
until you find it there and lead it back home.  
Wake me up  
Wake me up inside  
Can't wake up  
wake me up inside  
Save me  
call my name and save me from the dark.  
Wake me up  
Bid my blood to run  
Can't wake up  
before I come undone  
Save me  
save me from the nothing I've become."

.

His hips began to sway to the music, his wings beating softly against the still air, stirring forgotten shadows. His eyes closed against a few wayward tears and his head went back, his hair tickling the back of his neck.

His arms moved out from his body of their own accord, shaping against the air. His clenching muscles finally loosened enough that he could flow with the sound of Amy Lee's voice raised against the despair.

The flutter of feathers reverberated at the base of everything, trying to tell him that not everything was completely lost to his withering touch.

.

"Now that I know what I'm without  
you can't just leave me.  
Breathe into me and make me real  
bring me to life.  
Wake me up  
Wake me up inside  
Can't wake up  
wake me up inside  
Save me  
call my name and save me from the dark.  
Wake me up  
Bid my blood to run  
Can't wake up  
before I come undone  
Save me  
save me from the nothing I've become.  
Bring me to life.  
I've been living a lie.  
There's nothing inside.  
Bring me to life..."

.

His lips moved, echoing the words, though no sound passed the knot in his throat.

It seemed as though he'd been moving slowly through a never ending nightmare, screaming with no one there to listen. Nearly every day of his life since Harpoon ruined his wings was one of regret.

He knew he wasn't an X-Man anymore, no matter what Scott and the others tried to get him to believe. They just kept trying to suck him back into their world, back into being a hero. But all that was gone now, dust on the wind.

Angel was dead. Only shadow-Warren remained.

.

"Frozen inside without your touch without your love  
darling only you are the life among the dead.  
All this time I can't believe I couldn't see  
kept in the dark but you were there in front of me.  
I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems  
Got to open my eyes to everything  
Without a thought without a voice without a soul.  
Don't let me die here  
there must be something more.  
Bring me to life.  
Wake me up  
Wake me up inside  
Can't wake up  
wake me up inside  
Save me  
call my name and save me from the dark.  
Can't wake up.  
Bid my blood to run before I come undone  
Save me!  
save me from the nothing I've become.  
Bring me to life.  
I've been living a lie.  
There's nothing inside.  
Bring me to life..."

.

With the end of the song, he slipped to his knees on the expensive carpet he'd paid to have installed, sobbing uncontrollably with the loss of everything that ever meant anything.

He had his wings back, but at what cost? What had he let himself become, if only for a little while?

I am Death, he thought. It sounded shattered in his own head.

Apocalypse had stolen everything he held sacred, including his soul. And in return? He had his wings back.

He felt dirty inside.

 ***

 "He's still brooding," Bobby said.

Scott nodded. "Yeah. It was really hard on him."

"It's kind of weird to see Warren all blue, isn't it?"

"Don't make a big deal out of it," Scott said. "He probably doesn't want to be stared at and teased about something he couldn't control."

"I wasn't going to," Bobby defended.

"I was just saying."

"Yeah."

Most of the original X-Men stood in the hallway outside of Warren's room, none daring to knock or go in. They all knew that Warren wanted to be alone, had screamed it at them as he flung himself up the stairs half an hour before. Now moody music wailed from behind the oak wood blocking his inner sanctum from view.

"Do you think he's going to leave us again?" Bobby asked.

"Probably," Jean said, her voice sounding pained. "He's hurting so bad... it's like the ache of an abscessed tooth times a thousand. I'm surprised he can function at all, he hurts so bad."

Scott laid his hand on her shoulder. "We'll do whatever we can for him. He's still our friend. He needs us."

"I hope he's all right," Bobby said.

"He probably won't ever be 'all right,' Bobby," Hank said, hanging from the ceiling by his toes. "Apocalypse really did a number on his mind, and while he was Death, Warren hurt a lot of people. I don't think he's ever going to forgive himself for ever being weak enough to fall into Apocalypse's trap. I don't think he thinks the return of his wings was worth it."

"At least he doesn't have those metal monstrosities anymore," Jean said.

"What are y'all doin'?"

They turned to see Logan sauntering up the hallway. His thumbs were tucked into his belt loops and his boots clumped on the hardwood floor. Scott couldn't resist a wince at the thought of what those boots were probably doing to the expensive wood.

"We're trying to get up the courage to bother Warren," Bobby said.

"Why do you need courage for? Warren's not going to do anything to you." There was something derisive in the way Logan said Warren's name. He had never had any kind of respect for the mutant Angel, had always figured him for being light in the loafers and a real pushover. And the way Warren had allowed Apocalypse to manipulate him... that was just the proof of his weakness.

"Don't make the mistake of thinking Warren's a soft touch," Scott warned. "When it comes down to it, he can be a real son-of-a-bitch, and you don't want to make him mad."

Logan shrugged. "Whatever. Why don't y'all just leave him alone and let him pout himself out?"

"Because he's our friend," Bobby said, turning back to face Warren's door.

Logan snorted, but continued down the hallway to his room.

Scott, Hank, Bobby, and Jean stood outside Warren's door a long time, but none of them were brave enough to barge into his newest drama. It had been too long since they were teenagers, since they were best friends. They had all grown up, and things had changed.

Warren wasn't really one of them anymore, no matter that they all wished it was different. Probably even Warren dreamed about things going back to the way they used to be, but it was never going to happen.

Angel of the X-Men was no more. Death of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse was the only thing left, haunting what they used to share.

 ***

 "Death is out there, Master," the veiled woman hissed.

"Of course he is," Apocalypse's deep voice rumbled. "He was chosen for his ability to survive. He disappointed me in everything else, but his survival instinct cannot be denied."

"I speak of another," the precog said. "The original... Death lives yet."

"The original Death of the Four Horsemen still walks the earth?" Apocalypse asked.

"It is so. His age reverberates through the whole of the multiverse. He hides himself on another Earth, but he cannot change what he is and was always meant to be. Death is out there, waiting for you to find him and rekindle his destiny."

"Interesting," Apocalypse said, tenting his hands under his chin. He was seated on his giant stone throne, gazing down at the small, humped figure of his slave. "Tell me where he is. I think it is time for Death to make a reappearance."

"As you wish, my Master," the Immortal that once might have been Cassandra said, her voice cracking. Millennia of torture at the hands of Apocalypse had long since broken her spirit, and there were no secrets left in her.

 ***

 It had to be the strangest thing that had ever happened in a long and frightfully interesting life.

One minute he was walking down the street, nose buried in the book he'd just bought, and the next he was being sucked up into a swirling vortex and spat out the other side to land with a painful force. He could practically feel the bruises forming against his pale skin.

"What the bloody hell!" he cursed, then froze as dozens of booted feet surrounded him. His eyes raised with almost comical slowness, taking in the strange, skintight costumes. "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto."

"You got that right, bub."

Darkness took him.

 ***

 "Who is he, Professor?" Jean asked.

"I don't know, Jean," Xavier said, staring at the man lying still on the examination table. His forefinger framed his jaw while his thumb rested beneath his chin. "I cannot read his mind. He is a blank spot to my telepathy. It is very strange."

"Not to mention annoying," Jean said.

"Was there any identification on him, Jean?" Scott asked, standing with his arms crossed while he looked at the unconscious man suspiciously.

"The name in his wallet said he's Adam Pierson, naturalized citizen. He's originally from Great Britain. He had about forty dollars cash in his wallet, a Visa card, and a business card for a bar called 'Joe's.'"

"Did you try to call it?" Scott asked, glancing at her.

She nodded. "I tried, but I got a Not In Service message. When I used Dex online, it said there was no Joe's bar, or a Seacouver, Washington. I don't know where he came from, but there's definitely a lot about him that doesn't add up."

"When's he gonna wake?" Logan asked.

Jean shrugged. "Any time. I don't know why he's unconscious now, but he should wake up whenever he's ready."

As though on cue, the man's eyelids fluttered and he moaned piteously. "What the bloody fuck hit me?"

His eyes snapped open when he tried to move his arms and legs and found he couldn't. He thrashed against the restraints for a second, then went still. His eyes cautiously rolled around the room, taking them all in before settling on Xavier as the leader. "Why do you have me here?" he asked. "What do you want?"

For a second, there had been something almost panicked about them, then suddenly he was a well of calm serenity, his eyes still pools. He didn't like being strapped down, but none of it showed on his face. He simply looked curious... curious and strangely innocent, playing the part of a child.

Even without being able to read his mind, Jean could tell that the innocence he had pulled around himself was a mask. For a second he had shown a face that was fierce and almost frightening in its anger. She had to force herself to remember that, but it was hard when he looked that young.

"I am Professor Charles Xavier," the Professor said. "These are Dr. Jean Grey, Scott Summers, and Logan. You are at Xavier's School for Gifted Children. How you came to be here... well, that is the mystery, isn't it? You just appeared with no warning out of nowhere."

Lying flat on his back, Adam Pierson cocked his head a little to one side. "I don't know what happened either," he said slowly. "One minute I was walking down the street, the next I was being sucked up into a swirling blue vortex. I've never heard of the Xavier School. I don't even really know where I am. What state is this?"

"You're in New York," Scott said.

"New York? That's weird... I was in Washington state when I was sucked into the vortex. Do you think you could get me back to Seacouver?"

"I don't think so," Xavier said. "You see, there is no Seacouver in this reality."

"What? No Seacouver? Reality?" The man looked at them like they were crazy. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

Xavier sighed deeply. It was always a difficult thing to explain to someone, that they had crossed dimensional boundaries and there was probably no chance of them ever getting back home. He had done it a dozen times or more, but it was always hard being the first one to break the news to someone.

***

"Where is he?" Apocalypse demanded.

The strange shadowed mutant known simply as Z shivered at the anger in its master's voice. "There was... some difficulty bringing him across, Master. For some strange reason instead of coming here, he was ejected from the portal at Xavier's School. We think it might have something to do with there being such a large amassing of alpha-mutant energy there. It disrupted the diameters of the proportional exsurgiance field, causing a minor overload in the system. The Xavier School must somehow be the beta site for the portal."

"I thought you said you understood the technology?" Apocalypse said.

Z threw himself on his knees on the floor, bowing his head so low the tile mosaic left an impression on his forehead. More than anything, he didn't want to displease his master; the punishment would be terrible. "There were certain subroutines built into the program by Forge that I was unaware of. I am most sorry, Master. The mistake was completely mine, and I have taken steps that it will never happen again."

"It had better not." Apocalypse leaned forward on his throne chair. "Find my toy, bring him to me. Fail me not, lest you taste my wrath, worm."

Z quivered. "Yes, Master. Of course, Master. I am your most faithful servant, Master. Your command is my joy. I will bring him to you, do not fear."

"I do not fear. I am that which strikes fear in others."

"Yes, Master Apocalypse."

 ***

 "Let me see if I've got this straight," Methos said. "You're mutants with superpowers and your mission seems to be to save the world. Am I correct?"

He knew he was being annoying, but he couldn't help himself. Waking up in a strange place was never a pleasant experience, but then to find out that it was another world? He was not happy, to say the least.

"That's basically it," the one called Bobby said. "Oh yeah, and we also have a yearly basketball game against St. Vincent's, the private school down the lane. We usually kick their ass, but this year there was a little problem with the team and..."

"Bobby, that's enough," stern-faced Scott said. The boy instantly fell silent, though his open and friendly expression didn't change one iota; he was used to having his rambles shut down. "Mr. Pierson, we don't really have any kind of mission plan to save the world on a regular basis, it just seems to happen like that a lot. Really, we just want to invoke understanding between humans and mutants and somehow head off the war that seems to be headed our way."

"Well, I guess that's somewhat sweet," Methos said, "if a little sugar coated. I doubt there's very much you can do to stop a serious case of racism, especially if you're donning costumes and going out to fight crime. I would think you would instead be creating an elitist worldview, making normal humans feel inferior to your superpowered selves. And as everyone knows, jealousy is as good a reason to destroy someone as mindless hatred."

"That's a unique opinion," Xavier said. "In a lot of ways you remind me of Erik, a man I once knew."

Behind the professor's back, Logan rolled his eyes. Again with Magneto. It was almost like Xavier was obsessed with the guy. Every time they met a new mutant, it was time to bring out the "my old friend Erik" stories. It was getting old fast.

"Well, that's nice," Methos said. "It's not often that I'm compared to anyone I've never heard of before, but good on you."

Xavier wheeled himself closer to the bed. "You have to understand that this is not an idyllic world. Normal humans are not quite ready to accept mutants living amongst them and sometimes things get out of control. We barely managed to stall the mutant registration act, but there's no telling when someone might bring it up again. We are trying to promote understanding, but we're operating on borrowed time."

"There will come a point when humans and mutants will have to decide one way or another whether there will be out and out war between us," Jean said. "You're lucky... you're from a world where this kind of thing is just a story."

A faint smile quirked Methos' lips. "If that's what you want to believe, that's fine with me."

"What do you mean?" Logan demanded.

Methos flashed him a brightly false smile. "Just because there aren't mutants on my world, doesn't mean that everything's an idyllic paradise of harp-playing angels intent on the self-gratification of their every desire. We have problems too... it's just not advertised in such a glaringly obvious fashion, that's all."

"And what kind of problems could your world possible have?" Logan asked, his voice full of mocking doubt.

"The kind of problems that you could only dream of," Methos said.

***

Something was happening. The last CD had finished, and in the sudden quiet Warren could hear voices from the hallway outside his door. Some of the students were out there talking.

Not really feeling interested, but still kind of wanting to know what was going on, he crossed to the door and leaned against it, his ear just happening to press against the wood.

"Who is he?"

"I don't know. No one's telling us anything. But I saw him come out of that swirling blue thing. He's definitely not from around here."

"I wonder if he's here to take over the world or something. That's all we need, you know? Another weirdo trying with a stupid plan. All he needs are a couple of mutant henchmen."

"Heh. Minions of evil. Doctor's of evil... hee, Professor X is really Dr. Evil. He's already bald, so all he needs is a naked looking cat."

"Dude, you gotta stop it with the drugs. It makes you stupid."

Loud clattering footsteps made their way down the hallway, carrying the voices away from his door. Warren stepped back and stared at the door, his brow furrowing with thought.

He hadn't been much interested in anything but his own misery since the whole situation with Apocalypse, but now he was feeling a flutter of curiosity. Something was going on out there, and he wanted to find out what was happening.

Looking down at himself, his nose crinkled. He needed a shower and a change of clothes. Then he was going to find someone what was going on. He felt as though whatever was happening had something to do with him, and he was going to discover what it was.

 ***

 "All right, we're going to take a blood sample, then a little tissue sample and..."

Methos instinctively jerked on the straps holding him down. "NO!"

"Whoa! Adam please, it won't hurt you," Jean said, laying a calming hand on his chest.

All of her friends were just suddenly right there, standing close to the table, watching him. He could practically hear the thoughts churning as they wondered what was going on, why he was so upset about a few little tests.

"Why do you need to do this?" Methos asked, forcing his body into stillness. He couldn't help the panic surging through him. Lab tests and Immortals usually weren't a good thing. He'd had a few bad experiences in his day and he wasn't looking forward to a repeat, especially when he was in a world where he didn't have a dozen bank accounts set up or a couple of identities to fall back on if he had to make a quick escape.

"You're from another reality, there could be a number of problems you might be facing," Jean said. "I mean, your world may have different communicable diseases, there may be vitamins you need that food in our world don't carry, you could even have difficulties with our air or water. We need to know these things in case something happens to you. Plus, we've found that it's best to have everyone's medical information on file just in case."

"I'm fine," Methos said. "Believe me, there's nothing wrong with me, and I don't like medical tests."

Jean frowned at him, then glanced at Xavier. There was the sense of communication, but no words were exchanged. Methos had to wonder what her mutation was, but he had definite suspicions.

Xavier wheeled himself closer to the table Methos was strapped to. "Please don't fight, Mr. Pierson. We only have your best interest in mind, and we really don't want you taking ill. We won't do anything to harm you, I promise you that."

Methos just looked at him, his jaw clenched tight. He had heard the resolve in Xavier's voice and knew that no matter what he wanted, his blood and tissue would be taken and tested, and he would be poked and prodded by the lovely Dr. Jean Grey.

He lay still as Jean gathered a needle off a tray and carefully approached him. He kept his eyes on Xavier, staring into the man's face. There was something there that he didn't exactly like and trust. He was used to carrying secrets around with him, so he recognized someone else with their own burdens to bear.

***

Jean took the guy's blood, then scraped the inside of his cheek. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she said in that mock-cheerful voice that Scott found so annoying. She used that same tone when she was pissed at him and trying to pretend that she wasn't. "Now, I'll give you a quick shot and we're done for now."

"Shot of what?" Adam asked suspiciously.

Jean held up the needle with her left hand while patting Adam on the shoulder with her right. "Just general vaccinations for chicken pox, rubella, polio, that kind of thing. We may have different strains of common diseases here than what you have in your own world, and I figure, better safe than sorry, right?"

Adam held still as she stuck the needle in his arm. "Are you going to release me soon?" he asked. "I promise that I won't attack and bite anyone in a frenzy of faux-vampirism."

Jean smiled at him. "I'll release you in just a moment," she said. "Let me just finish this and..."

Scott grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back when Adam suddenly jerked and began convulsing, his heels drumming on the padded table and his hands clawing at the air. His eyes rolled up in his head and froth began bubbling from between his lips. A gurgling sound escaped his throat.

"Holy crap, Jean, what'd you give him?" Bobby yelped.

Jean pulled herself away from Scott and lunged forward to grab another needle off the metal tray. "He must have an allergy to one of the vaccines, but I ran the allergy test and there was nothing... Oh God." She jabbed the needle into the side of Adam's neck, holding him still with her telekinesis, then depressed the plunger. The pearl colored liquid disappeared into his vein.

Almost immediately, the seizure ended and Adam flopped bonelessly on the table, his mouth lax and his eyes closed to mere slits. His breath rasped and his skin was a grayish color, but at least he had stopped seizing, and Scott figured that was a good thing.

"Is he all right?" Scott asked.

Jean had pulled out her stethoscope and was busily checking Adam's vitals. "I don't know. I really hope I didn't just fry his brain or something, but..."

She gasped and stepped back when Adam's eyes snapped open suddenly. What looked like blue lightning passed over his eyeballs before being sucked into his pupils, which were just tiny pinpricks. When the last of the lightning disappeared, his pupils expanded back to normal and his mouth closed with a clack of teeth. He swallowed hard a few times before his eyes focused on Jean. "What happened?" he asked, his voice a little rough.

"I don't know," Jean repeated. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, but I have a funky taste in my mouth and I think I'm kind of thirsty. Did you kill me?" he asked, his eyes wide and curious. "I don't mind, it's happened enough. Do you think I could have something to eat? I think I'm really hungry. Can I have a drink? Is your hair really that color?"

"Whoa," Bobby said. "What'd you give him, some kind of truth serum?"

"No," Jean said, sounding puzzled. "I don't know what's happening to him, but he's having some really strange reactions to our drugs."

"Drugs, ooh, I remember the sixties. I had a few hits of acid and spent four hours staring at a black velvet painting of Elvis. I wanted to fuck him so bad, back when he was thin Elvis, but I missed my chance. I did have fun going on tour with the Rolling Stones, though," Adam cooed. "Oh, I love those little mini-eggrolls, the ones that look almost exactly like pizza rolls. Though why they call them 'rolls' is beyond me, since they're more like square little pouches filled with stuff. Really good though, um... I'm hungry, you think I could eat? I could so eat like four boxes of mini-eggrolls, and oh, yeah, a big plate of spaghetti with meatballs and..."

Scott reached out and covered Adam's mouth. He looked at Jean. "When's it going to wear off?"

Jean bit her lip and gave him a wide-eyed look along with a hurried shrug. "The drug wasn't supposed to do this in the first place. He's having some really weird reactions and I don't know what's happening or how to stop it. So I have no idea how long this is going to last."

"Great. So we get babble-boy for the next however long, right?" Logan growled.

Adam giggled. "Boy, boy, I like that. I am a boy." He wriggled joyfully. "That's so funny. MacLeod is a boy. He's only four hundred. I'm much older than a boy. I'm a... a gaffer, yeah, a gaffer, older than some mountains. Yeah, me." He broke down into uncontrollable laughter, his feet kicking excitedly.

"What's going on here?" a cool voice asked. Scott looked over and saw that Warren had come in without anyone noticing the sound of the door opening. He looked as beautiful as he usually did, though the blue skin was still a bit of a shock to see. His yellow-blond hair was perfectly combed and he'd changed his clothes. Scott was happy to see him looking so well.

"Ooh, pretty," Adam called, craning his head to see around Logan. "Can I have you? I promise to be gentle... or not," he giggled mischievously. "I'll let you do whatever you want. I'll feed you eggrolls and spaghetti and meatloaf and cheese and butter and milk and hopscotch and potatoes and football and monkey and..." He grinned goofily. "I'll stay with you forever, or however much you have of it."

Scott was watching Warren's face closely when his friend caught his first sight of Adam. He saw Warren's mouth go slack for a moment and his eyes go wide and dazzled. Scott could practically feel the burn of Warren's sudden interest as he walked forward toward the table, moving as though he was in a dream.

"Hello," Warren purred. "My name is Warren Worthington III. What's yours?"

"Metho... Adam," Adam said. "My name is Adam Pierson. Do you want me to be someone else? I can be someone else for you. I like your wings."

Warren reached out his hand, seeming not to know what he was doing until his fingertips touched the side of Adam's face. "Where are you from?"

Adam nuzzled his face against Warren's hand. "Don't remember, it was too long ago. The stars are all different now. I would give you my journal if I had brought it with me. You're really pretty. Can I kiss you?"

"Sure." Warren leaned forward and pressed his lips against Adam's kissing him almost chastely, but with fire hidden just beneath the surface.

Scott felt his stomach drop, watching his oldest friend interact with this strange man from another world. He didn't want Warren's heart to be broken again, which was what looked like was going to happen. Warren was going to have one more bad relationship to get over, and Scott really had to wonder if there was anything left in him. Each breakup or death seemed to take a little more life out of Warren, and already he was looking very hollow.

Please don't hurt him, please don't hurt him, Scott thought, prayed really. He was tired of people hurting Warren, and he really didn't want to have to paste him back together again. It was all just so hard on Warren.

"Who are you?" Warren asked when he pulled away, staring down at Adam in fascination.

"I'm yours."

"Okay."

***

Warren had never fallen so hard, so fast in his entire life. It felt as though electricity jolted through him at the first sight of Adam Pierson and there was nothing in him that ever wanted to look away. He wanted to hold Adam forever in his arms, protect him from everything, and give him anything that he wanted.

It was weird to even think about being so open with someone, but he wanted to tell Adam everything. He wanted to rip open his soul and let Adam crawl in. It was the strangest thing, but it didn't really seem to bother him, felt perfectly natural in fact.

"Do you want to fuck me?" Adam suddenly asked, his breath warm against Warren's ear.

"Soon," Warren said, "when you're a little more sober. You're definitely not someone that I want to take advantage of."

"You wouldn't be taking advantage of me," Adam chirped. "You'd be doing what I want you to do."

"Well, let's just wait anyway," Warren said, unable to resist rubbing his hand up and down Adam's back, dipping a little further downward with each sweep. The swell of Adam's ass was tempting him, but he was determined to wait. "Believe me, I want to take you to bed right now, but... we're not going to do that yet."

Adam pouted, a surprisingly cute expression. "But I want you to fuck me, or me to fuck you. I want to go and have mad randy sex with you. Why do I have to wait? I want sex now!"

Warren looked around at his friends and could feel the blue of his cheeks darkening with his blush. "Come on, you can wait a little while, can't you?" he cajoled.

Adam gave him big, sad eyes. "But I want it now," he whined, sounding remarkably like Violet from Willy Wonka.

"You'll just have to wait," Warren said, leaning forward to nuzzle his face against Adam's neck. The other man shivered and twitched delightedly. Warren marked the fact that Adam was extremely sensitive about the neck. That knowledge could really come in handy later.

"I'll wait, but not for too long," Adam said, his smile quickly turning lascivious. "If you don't give me what I want, I'll just have to handle it myself." He rubbed his crotch suggestively.

Warren hurriedly grabbed Adam's hand and pulled it away, holding it tightly in his own hand. "No, don't do that," Warren said. "I want to do it. Just wait a little while and we can both have fun... together." He nipped at Adam's ear teasingly.

"Okay," Adam said, smiling brightly. He looked so cute like that, all relaxed and long limbed, waiting for Warren to do whatever he wanted to him. It was a tempting sight, that was for sure.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Warren felt like he had some kind of hope for the future. Things had been bad for a long time, but now they were looking up and the stars were his.

.

Jean proclaimed that the drugs would wear off soon and Adam would be himself again. So it wasn't that much of a hardship to move him out of the sterile environment of the med lab and upstairs to a room of his own where he could be more comfortable. Warren had to insist, but finally the rest of the X-Men gave in to his demands and he helped settle Adam into the double bed with a pile of extra pillows scavenged from his own room.

He may have only just met Adam, but the connection he felt to the man was real to him and he would not deny the strongest emotion he had felt in a long time.

Watching Adam rolling back and forth on the bedspread, his eyes slit in feline bliss, Warren smiled happily. This was a strange moment in his life, but he wasn't going to deny what he felt.

For the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt close to happy. There was just this sense of anticipation, as though destiny was waiting to happen. And as long as he didn't completely screw everything up, he could have everything he had ever wanted, including contentment and someone to live his life with.

It was strange how everything had just seemed to snap back into the place. The world seemed bright and new again, the colors vibrant around him.

 

 

 

hereherehere

"Oh my god! He's dead!"

"You killed Methos. You bastard!"


End file.
